


Rising tumult

by rAdiantOrdam



Category: Uncharted
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Uncharted 4, uncharted - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8984959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rAdiantOrdam/pseuds/rAdiantOrdam
Summary: "It's overwhelming to believe that they could become eternally absent in a single instant because she was powerless."After hearing their plans to go to Scotland, soon-to-be journalist Elena, is worried sick about Rafe and Nathan's safety. (Set shortly after prison)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I did a lot of editing that included rearranging sections of the story and I was too lazy to re-read, so if there are any repeats, errors, or context mistakes, please inform. I am also using a tablet to upload this and I somehow, I am unable to add indents.
> 
> Has a hint of Dickins' writing language.
> 
> I listened to "White Winter Hymnal" by Fleet Foxes Foxes while writing this.
> 
> Enjoy :D

The living room was roughly dark; the only source of light stemmed from her luminescent computer screen, highlighting the outline of her face in a glowing border. Elena's fingers galloped on the keyboard like a beating tune every time an innovative, connected sentence entered her neurons and touched her nerves, but that was only rarely, for she had to pause on multiple occasions to contend with her headaches. Often, she would regret procrastinating, but it's become such a used habit by now, she quickly hid that flaw with the excuse of having the flu.  


The boys were at the library, on the other hand - side in that matter, was she here on the couch of her living room, computer in lap on for an essay due soon, reporting on - Roman civilization, instead of traveling with Nathan and Rafe to the library, researching for certain...pirate treasure. Hell, an essay on that would've given Elena the top score.  


Her cognitive side runs off monologging. Maybe due to the fever she has, but in that moment, nobody knows. The cursor on Elena's computer blinks in a linear pattern while waiting for her next unresponsive move. Staring at it is mesmerizing and it gives her nausea when the sight is too long. So she stops. She stops and lays the device back down with a gentle click. Elena sneezes violently following the action. Despite the cold environment swallowing her, getting a sweatshirt upstairs wasn't up for second consideration. She's partly awake to experience the fall onto the couch. The thick pellets of snow sprinkling outside her window sill touches her attention only for a few heartbeats. The phone on the counter flashes with a familiar number. Her body's too fatigued to pick it up, so she lets voicemail play. 

"Hey. Elena?" She expected to recognize the voice. "Uh, we're coming back, already on route...uh....So, uh, we'll see ya in a bit I guess." It's Rafe. The audio pauses at what she thinks it stops completely. "Also we' uh..." His voice stalls to a low volume; it makes her heart drop and sway with concern. Elena expects to hear a line along the thread bad news. She regrets not answering the call. But she sighs with heavy relief when he says "We already had supper, so you don't have to stir up anything extra for us."  
The room is bound to a dimension of silence before the voice on the phone goes. "Bye" and clicks its own signature farewell.  


Her brief panic flushed down the rest of her energy. She's still in the arms of uneasiness; afraid that in a few weeks, she'll see that they have carried themselves through the door with a lost leg and bloody arms, back from Scotland. Rafe and Nathan are the only ones who actually felt like family to her in a long time and it's overwhelming to believe in the helplessness that tells her she can't protect them. It's overwhelming to believe that they, such people that treated her with care, could become eternally absent one day because she was powerless. It's overwhelming that the trip to Scotland was merely days away. Something sits heavy at the bottom of her chest, sinking her heart. The only thing that eases her worries is that she is coming with them; that even costed them a heated argument.  


She sleeps, and when she sinks into the state, she clings onto the leather of her couch, because everything is cold.  


"Elena?!" Something abruptly increases in volume. There is the occasional knock on her front door. "It's us." Is the next response as a successor. She walks with a lightheaded sensation, the discomfort is quickly replaced with anxiety.  


Elena opens the door, it creaks in the process but it reveals the presence of two men.  


"What the hell happened?" She lifts her eyes in a sudden moment, gasping at the sight of several small cuts that spilled around their faces.  


Nathan hurries for a response  
"Hey. We're alright. Nothing, just some small bruises. That's all." He chuckles. "We're probably not going to be if you leave us out in the cold though."  


"What was there? A cat in the library?" She smirks sarcastically. 

 

Usually, Elena would frantically check them over for any severe injuries, but after remembering her sickness, she has no choice but to take his word for it. They looked fine anyway. She captiously watches them walk through the door with at least two books trapped between the arms.  
With the long span of time being so distant, the moment becomes strange and unfamiliar. Due to infection, Elena warns them not to touch her, which earns her a few bewildered looks. She tries to hide her coughs, but it only results in soft, and uncomfortable whimpers, not aware that Rafe watches her intently when she lays back in her former nest on the couch. His palm gently rests on her forehead.  


"Jesus," his tone expresses discern. "...you're burning."  


"Please. Rafe it's fine." Her tone is distressed. Her consternation grows more when Nathan kneels down beside her.  


"It's just a fever. Please. I promise I'll get over it." She struggles to shift their focus. "I heated some soup, it's on the counter. I figured you might be hungry. It's probably cold alre-"  


"No no, We already ate." Nathan interiors into the conversation on a rather abrupt moment. He leaves when he remarks about the thermometer. Rafe inches to press his hand against her head again.  


"Wait." Her voice shook and she quickly pulls away.  
"Just don't. You could get sick." She finds her warning behind the clock. He already has her enveloped into his arms with a fleece quilt, feeling Elena shiver at the slight temperature shift.  
"I don't care if I do." Is his only verbal response. 

Nathan shows up within a few beats, oral thermometer in hand. She eventually submits under their care, knowing that she won't be able to emit much effort from stopping them.  


Elena doesn't pay attention to the murmur of discussion between them when her temperature is shown. Her attention is less so when Nathan feeds her some bitter medicine. The taste barely bothers her and she finds it strange to her indifference. They persuade her to rest, even though there still is a bothering ache in her stomach. But it wasn't sickness, but perhaps it was about the unfinished paper. The snowy, dark exterior of the window teamed up with her flu makes her grow languid, feeble, and it doesn't leave any room for worry.  


She only remembers that the dream ends with her helplessly screaming their names when the mines explode on the encounter of Nathan and Rafe.  


Elena kicks as roughly as the tumult in her dream. She violently jerks while slightly trying to voice out words repetitively. By the attention of Nathan, of the brief moment it seemed to be the alarm in the hour he's been watching the TV.  
"Hey." He quietly calls to her. Nathan kneels down before the couch. He shakes her softly and whistles a high pitched tune of two notes in attempt to release her from the trap of the illusion-formed reality in her dream. He's in much panic to mind her frequent movement. Elena arrives at the familiar melody, coming to the realization that the battleground was only the convivial living room, so different from where she is to where she was. Nathan watches a pair of tear-glazed hazel eyes trace back to his own.  


Even in the little moment, Nathan's presence comforts her.  
"You okay?" The sound of Nathan's voice was perturbed. He waits for the response. Despite  
having no qualms thinking that her dream was about the trip to Scotland, he purposely tries to evade the topic. But it is still apparent he thinks about, solely shown by the fact that he avoids the subject.  


She's used to it anyway. She expects Nathan to know. What she doesn't expect is the dream to not occur repeatedly. But she's not used to it, because every time, she still doesn't learn how to become the soothsayer. Elena nods in reply, noticing Rafe's neck craned over her as well, flashing looks of uneasiness. No one speaks and the only string between the three was quietness. For she stays silent, but closes in for a gentle hug on Nathan. Nathan takes the moment in slow surprise, but his arms travel around her because it is the best thing he tells his arms to do. He finds nothing suitable to fill the time they stay in this posture, but Elena eventually lets him go.  


On the wild side, Rafe finds it to be an opportunity to steal the remote thrown against the pillow. He changes the channel to some comedy drama he recently started to watch and plops onto Nathan's initial territory on the couch.  


"Wow." Nathan compliments with an amusingly plaintive voice before he quips, "Adler, no swiping" and climbs onto the space beside him.  


Rafe looks back at the man dubiously. "Now look who's talking," he retorts and Elena chuckles at his reference with a cough. Rafe supports her curled up body into a sitting position with a gentle swoop of his right arm and lets her lean on his shoulder, while her own shoulders are draped over by the blanket of a fleece layer. She doesn't want him to get sick, but perhaps the constant Pyrrhic victory of her immune system fighting off the virus deprived her body of energy. Yet, even with the risk of a little family outbreak, she finds it comfortable. Relaxation, instead, rules over her concern, feeling like all the ligaments disconnected from her bones painlessly. Elena doesn't want to sleep. Even though she doesn't want to close her eyes and see them not at peace, she doesn't worry about the night, regardless of the fact that it will still engulf her in sleep. She stares blankly at the TV screen until she flinches stunningly when Rafe loudly guffaws and suddenly slaps his knee at some absurdly hilarious joke. Nathan's chest bumps with a light laugh and he snickers at the back of his throat. Elena rolls her eyes at him playfully and he responds with a shameless grin.  


Despite being in these times of uneasiness, Elena finds the pacific and convivial atmosphere in the room to be natural.  
Rafe's rare session of laughter died down to a smile with little flare. Quite frankly, she was fond of his liveliness. With the intention to make it return somehow, Elena nuzzles him on the side of his jaw, in attempt to tickle him. She doesn't know that he's built immunity to it by now; as a refute, Rafe blows into her neck, which causes her to squeal unexpectedly, launching into falling dominoes of laughter. She leans back on the armrest for defense against Rafe's continuous tickling.  


"Nate, help!" Elena giggles as a command. Out of playful instinct, Nathan only treks halfway the distance to keep the fire in her hopes still burning, but he plans for he stops.  


"Nah." He shrugs, only resting his head atop of hers. "I got nothin'."  


"C'mon Nate!" She continues to break out into raindrops of laughter again. Elena merely gives in knowing that her commands were rendered useless.  


"Playtime's over," Rafe pauses his act suddenly, noticing her face relaxing in relief. "I got something for ya."

He swiftly pulls out a box covered poorly in crumbled, blue wrapping paper in hand. "We got you that fox game that you said really wanted." She doesn't bother to correct him on the "fox" term, but she doesn't do it out of meanness. Elena flashes him a slight grin as a thanking. The box is in her hand at the next moment, and unexpectedly, she doesn't find a copy of the new Crash Bandicoot game beneath the wrapping sheets. Instead, the bold white letters on the front of the box spelled "StarFox." 

She hasn't played it, she hasn't seen it, she hasn't even opened the wrapping, but she still favors it over all her other games.


End file.
